


i might drown (in this california king)

by baddiebrae (lovetiko90)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky's dead, M/M, i literally suck, kinda infidelity, the bear au, the bear by anton chekov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5801803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetiko90/pseuds/baddiebrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hope the devil saved the cooler part of hell for you, my dear."</p>
<p>"the bear" by anton chekhov au (sorta)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm a flaming garbage can :)  
> stucky had to die so samsteve could live #ripstucky2k16  
> #blacklivesmatter

Bucky had been dead for seven months before Steve even left his room. The tears had simply stopped coming, so he figured that it was time to at least make sure that there was still an estate to look after.

Walking down the corridor, he stopped at a painting of his late husband. Bucky was in his prime when the portrait was painted, fresh from the war with the light still in his eyes. James Buchanan Barnes once had passion and fire in his heart. That fire was promptly used to have extramarital sex and drink himself to death. Now Steve was left with the ashes and the rest of his life to mourn.

A sad smile was on his face as he spoke, “I hope the devil saved the cooler part of hell for you, my dear.”

He walked on to the kitchen, where his butler, Jarvis, was preparing breakfast for the main house.

“Ah, good morning sir! May I say that it is refreshing seeing your face beyond the bedchamber! Is there anything you wanted for breakfast?”

Steve lowered himself into one of the stools by the breakfast nook and sighed.

“Toast and coffee will be fine, Jarvis, thank you.”

The breakfast nook was positioned next to a bay window gave one view to the rolling hills of the estate. The stables that were close to the main house were in plain view, and housed Bucky’s old war horse, Sarah.

“Jarvis, be sure that Sarah gets extra oats today, please? She was always James’ favorite.”

Jarvis nodded while setting down Steve’s plate on the table. The meager breakfast of eggs on toast reminded him of his mother's cooking, and how she approved of Bucky because he could provide for her son. She must have been rolling in her grave the moment Bucky got wandering eyes. 

The estate really was beautiful with its Colonial architecture and lush greenery. It was just a bit daunting, coming from a two bedroom apartment to a mansion that required a full staff. Whenever he tried to express this to his husband, all he would get was a terse reply and a new Jackson Pollock painting. He feared he would never feel comfortable in his too-big bed in his too-big house.

“Excuse me, sir? I said that you have a visitor.” In all of his silent brooding, Jarvis had left to answer the door and returned. He was speaking softly, for silent tears were slipping down Steve’s face.

He took a deep breath and wiped his face with his hand. “A visitor? They do realize I'm still refusing all visitors?”

“Yes, sir, and I’ve tried to tell them that, but they insist on seeing you.”

That took Steve aback. Refusing visitors during mourning was common practice, and to go against a mourner's wishes was quite disrespectful. He wondered who had such gall.

“How odd. Well, I might as well go to ask them to leave.” He stood up and walked to the sitting room with Jarvis on his heels. 

In his husband’s chair was the most handsome man Steve had ever seen. The man had smooth dark brown skin with a black goatee, and his eyes- His eyes shone like he was in on a joke you weren't yet. When he saw Steve enter the room he smiled the most dazzling smile, and was out of the chair to shake his hand. 

This man, who remained nameless in Steve’s mind, all of a sudden became the star of his thoughts. Images of what he would look like wrapped around his body, worshiping every inch, raced through his head. A crimson blush burned his cheeks.

“Mr. Barnes, how do you do? Sam Wilson, pleased to meet you,” the stranger- Mr. Wilson, Sam Wilson- spoke. His voice was deep with an almost humorous tinge to it. 

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Wilson. Please, call me Steve.”

He gestured to the seat across the room while taking a seat in the chair Mr. Wilson was sitting in previously.

“Mr. Wilson was my father, Steve. Call me Sam.”

“Well, Sam, I trust that my butler has made it clear to you that I was not accepting guests.”

Sam smirked. “Yes, he made it very clear. Just shy of kicking me out. But you do not have to think of me as a guest. I’m here on business.”


	2. two

“Business, you say? Well, I must let you know that my husband handled those sorts of things, God rest his soul.”

Sam chuckled. “Oh yes, your husband. I knew James quite well. He was an... interesting character.” Steve battled with being either intrigued or offended.

“Which brings me to why I bother you today. James owed me a debt that he left unpaid by the time he- er - perished. Now that I’ve come upon hard times, the money would be very helpful.”

“I understand how that might be difficult for you, but I doubt that I’ll be able to help you. I do apologize.” Steve couldn't help but add a rueful smile. It was just like Bucky to leave his dirty work for his spouse to handle, even in death. 

Sam laughed and walked over to the bookcase where Steve and Bucky’s wedding album sat. He picked up and flipped through, stopping at one photo that interested him. It showed Bucky holding Steve as Steve gazed upon his husband's face. The look in his eyes held so many emotions: infatuation, lust, fear. Those eyes would be directed towards Sam if it was the last thing the man did.

“I’ve always wondered who James kept at home. I never knew that they would be someone of your caliber. But I do believe that you could be able to help me, Steve.”

The blush in his cheeks burned even deeper with Sam’s implication. 

“Sam, my husband’s finances were handled by him and him alone. I have no access to the funds to help you pay this debt. Once again, I apologize,” he spoke while standing, getting ready to leave. “I wish you safe travels.”

“Steve, please. If I were to help you gain access to his funds, do you think you could assist me? I’d do anything.”

Steve had called Jarvis to escort the man to the door.

“Goodbye, Mr. Wilson. Jarvis will show you to the door.”


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im screaming in tongues  
> ok so i have zero energy left but my first fic to have a third chapter!!! everybody say yay!!!  
> love everybody who reads this lots xoxo

Steve had barely sat down before a sharp rap at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Goodness gracious, I’ve just sat to collect my thoughts! Come in,” he called, annoyed. Jarvis walked in with an apologetic look on his face.

“Sir, Mr. Wilson is refusing to leave. He says if you can’t help him, the least you can do is share a drink with him. I’ve told him how that would be most improper-” His words came out with a breath that was close to a pant, as if the mere thought of Sam and Steve together exhausted him.

Steve wanted to tell Jarvis to make the man leave in any way possible. He wanted to climb back into bed and lay there, waiting to follow his dear James into the abyss for feeling anything towards this intriguing stranger. Then he remembered his dear James’ Natasha, and Virginia, and Anthony after that.

The bastard could rot.

He drew himself together and brought to memory the finishing school classes he had to endure as an adolescent. Straight back, lifted chin, and for god’s sake, smile.

“Well, if it’s the least I can do.”

Steve walked back to the sitting room, ignoring Jarvis’ protests. Sam grinned and took Steve’s hand, planting a firm kiss on his knuckles.

“I had a feeling you would come back.”

Steve spoke to Jarvis quietly to request drinks for the both of them. 

“Well, when a dashing man comes in my house and refuses to leave until I share a drink with him, how could I say no?”

Sam chuckled and poured two shots of the whiskey Jarvis had brought back for them.

“Dashing, you say? You flatter me, Steve.”

Steve smirked and took a slow sip, making sure to wet his lips thoroughly.

“I’ve never been one to stretch the truth.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, both relaxed by the alcohol.

“How much did James owe you, exactly?”

Sam’s expression took a serious tone suddenly.

“About five hundred dollars. I gave him a loan to go see some girl in California. I think it was his cousin Natasha, or something.”

Steve barked out a laugh. 

“You unknowlingly helped my husband have an affair. Don't be sorry, though. I guess I should thank you. Or him.”

Sam looked at his almost empty shot glass and sighed.

“Thank us for what?”

“If he wasn't an irresponsible ass with money, I wouldn't have you in my sitting room.”

Steve stood up and poured another shot of whiskey for Sam.

“I guess you could say it’s fate, destiny, some other bullshit.” 

By then, he had wandered over to where the wedding album was.

“I always wondered why I didn't do it for him. Why I wasn't enough.”

Sam was suddenly close to Steve, in his space, breathing his air. He smelled slightly of alcohol and cologne and home.

“I never liked Bucky.”


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so ik this was like the tiniest chapter ever and its the final one?!? but i think i have an epilogue in the works (yay or nay? comment what you think. comment anything i love comments) and I'm pretty sure its kid!fic yay,!!!!
> 
> anyway see you on the flipside xoxo

Before he could even speak, Sam’s lips were on his and oh. That floating feeling was new. There was an entirely new universe to be found in Sam Wilson, and Steve was to be apart of it.

To hell with mourning!

All he wanted was to drag this man to his room and explore every inch of his body, acquaint himself with every curve and dip. 

Sam’s hands gently cupped Steve's face and pulled him away. He sucked in a sharp breath and beamed.

“As much as I would love to continue, I believe we have an audience.”

Steve whipped around to see Jarvis and the head cook, Lacey, standing in the doorway.

He put on a sly smile and spoke, “Jarvis, Sarah can get the alotted amount of oats for today. And Lacey, please make enough for our guest. I believe he’ll be staying the night.”


End file.
